


For Me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom!Sam, Dom/sub, Feminization, M/M, Panty Kink, Sub!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:04:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3900661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go dress up for me, princess.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Me

Sam watches as Dean’s lips part, ever so slight. His brother is so beautiful.

“Go dress up for me, princess.”

Dean’s tongue darts out, and Sam raises an eyebrow at him for not moving otherwise. Lowering his eyes, Dean turns and walks out of the kitchen; he’d probably run, still, if Sam let him, but that had been forbidden years ago. It’s tempting to call out that his brother could hurry today. But Sam doesn’t; as nice as seeing Dean’s eagerness is, it’s better watching him try to contain it.

Sam curls some of his hair behind his ear. It’ll take Dean a bit to put on the makeup. It’s been a while – seven months, he thinks – and Sam’s sure that most of it will have dried up at least a bit. He can’t even remember when Cas bought everything. All he knows is just that Cas bought the nicest he could find and way too much variety for such rare occasions.

Humming softly, Sam cooks up some eggs for his husband. He’s sound asleep, and Sam thinks he and Dean’ll still be going when Cas tumbles out of bed. By the state of their blankets earlier, fisted tight, Sam thinks his husband’ll cling to sleep for all he’s worth this morning. Breakfast will be some consolation for not letting him watch.

The eggs get transferred to the oven on low heat when finished. Sam quickly washes out the pan, and he puts it onto their dish rack. Then, he walks towards the guest bedroom; his pace is more eager than he allows it in front of his brother and is slowed magnificently after opening the door. The sight that greets him is better than he had hoped.

Dean’s face is covered in what looks like a full face of makeup; it’s good to know that nothing was too dried out or that Dean worked some magic on it. Sam takes his time just looking at him. His brother’s eyes are closed, lids painted in a glittery brown and black with lashes full. The tiny bursts of freckles on his face are masked and his cheekbones dusted with the faintest blush. Sam licks his own lips when he makes his way to Dean’s. They’re in a subtle gloss, natural except for the bit of glitter and shine that catches in the soft morning light coming in from behind the curtains.

Sam slowly draws his eyes away from his brother’s face to the rest of him. His hair’s fluffed up as much as it can be and ready for Sam to grab if he chooses. Dean’s got his hands tangled up in the bed frame and his legs spread wide. He’s wearing some of Cas’s fancier lingerie, his chest encased in a bra and dick trapped in panties. The sight of it pulls a growl out of Sam; the white of them doesn’t do much for Dean – won’t until he’s flushed nice and pretty – but he’s never wore a bra for Sam.

“Look at you, all dolled up for me.” That gets Dean to whine and tilt to expose his neck more. “So beautiful, Dean.”

Sam climbs onto the bed, leg pressing to his brother’s side. Dean turns his head, and Sam puts a hand onto his stomach. It’s trembling.

“Excited?”

Dean nods.

“You can talk.”

A swallow, throat expanding. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.”

He bends to kiss his brother, momentarily pressing his hand down hard. Dean parts his lips like he alway does, and Sam bites down on the bottom one. Green eyes open at that; biting usually doesn’t start until Sam’s giving orders.

The surprise gets ignored. Sam nibbles the lip a bit, letting Dean get used to the sting before biting down hard. A groan is the response. He releases the lip to kiss the top one. Dean’s mouth twitches, and Sam smiles down at him before pulling his brother’s bottom lip back into his mouth. He sucks and sucks until Dean starts wiggling impatiently below him. Then he tugs the lip out as far as it’ll go. Dean twists his hands a bit in discomfort, and Sam rubs his hand against his brother’s stomach. He holds the lip as it is.

Dean’s hands switch from twisting to digging into themselves around the frame as the discomfort stays. Sam can’t even begin to think about how long he’s held the lip out, but he releases; he has plans, and Dean’s going to not want to have already started on the journey to hand cramps. He brings his free hand up to rub at Dean’s mouth gently while Dean’s grip eases. The lip gloss get smeared a bit, glitter sticking to the corner of his lips.

“How are your ass and thigh muscles, princess?”

Dean pulls his lip away from Sam and into his mouth as he thinks it over. “Probably not good enough, Sir.”

“Well, I’ll try not to be disappointed when you fall onto the bed, then.”

Dean pouts, but he doesn’t say anything. Sam smiles at him and pats his face.

“You’re going to try not to do that, though, aren’t you? You’re gonna shake and cry before you let yourself fall?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

That gets Dean to preen, eyes going bright and a smile on his lips. Sam has to kiss him; he’s stupidly adorable how much he enjoys being called that. He keeps it chaste, just his lips to his brother, just enough to let Dean know he’s happy with him. 

He pulls away and takes his hands with him. “Raise up, hips higher than your shoulders. Legs spread like they are with your feet flat on the bed.”

Dean adjusts his legs and raises his ass, body tensing slightly. His eyes flick to Sam’s.

“Just like that, princess. How’s the spread on your knees?”

“Not good, Sir. I can’t hold this.”

“Try your legs closer together.”

Dean flops back onto the bed. He stretches his legs out before he slides his feet closer together and raises back into position. When he nods, Sam puts a hand on the knee closest to him and squeezes.

“I want you to hold until you absolutely can’t.”

A fluttery breath. “Yes, sir.”

Sam pushes himself off of the bed. He grabs the lube that Dean put onto the nightstand – probably the first thing he did, before his makeup – and settles himself between his brother’s legs on his stomach. The lube gets placed under Dean’s ass while Sam tugs the panties to the side hard, ripping them, and presses a kiss onto his perineum. 

Dean’s body jolts like usual when Sam moves to his hole; he’s never been able to stop the first wave of pleasure from affecting him. Sam brings a hand up to rest on his brother’s thigh to give him some grounding. It gets the desired effect of Dean settling, his body as still as it can be while working to hold itself up. Sam presses another kiss to his brother in reward.

Then he dives in. Dean whines as Sam’s tongue runs against him, and Sam knows that his mouth’s not going to close again now, noise a permanent effect of Dean feeling good. He drags his tongue in circles, closer and then farther from the rim depending on the sounds Dean makes for him. Too much sensation and the low moans turn to breathless pants, and Sam wants to hear him for a bit. He trails his tongue away from his brother’s hole, down his crack.

Dean lets out a whine, volume increasing the further Sam goes. The hand on his thigh grips him tighter. Sam lets his nails dig in a bit, and he moves his mouth to his brother’s cheek. He bites down. It causes Dean to groan and try to push himself into Sam’s face. Sam doesn’t let him, his nails going in deeper and his face pulling back after relaxing his mouth. He can’t see it, but Sam knows Dean’s hands are tightened in frustration on the headboard. 

Dean moves himself back the little half inch he pushed forward. Sam brings his face in and nips the same spot he bit. Then he presses his lips in small kisses over the teethmarks all the way to his brother’s dick; he has to raise himself up more, Dean’s thighs framing his head. The keen Dean lets out is _fantastic._

Sam just mouths at his brother’s balls, enjoying the little stutters and moans he causes. Dean’s hips rise up and fall, first trying to get more stimulation from Sam’s lips and then just trying to hold himself in position as Sam keeps going. His thighs are starting to tremble, and a hand to his ass shows that he’s really starting to feel it; Dean wasn’t just underestimating himself earlier, and Sam is both relieved at that and disappointed that he won’t be able to draw this out as much as he’d like. He draws some skin into his mouth and rolls it between his teeth. Dean cries out when he bites down.

An indeterminate amount more of bites and nips get Dean to start murmuring small, broken, and repeated requests of  _“no”_  instead of _“please.” _Sam switches to running his tongue over where he hurt on a pitiful one, half finished before Dean restarted the word. The relief from Dean is instantaneous, and Sam thinks what Dean tries to get out is “thank you, Sir,” but it gets lost in a relieved moan. 

Sam moves back to Dean’s hole, kisses and his tongue pressed to the little skin there is between point A and point B. His hand on Dean’s thigh starts to rub little circles as Dean’s breath hitches. Dean’s position is even more wobbly now. Sam plants a kiss on his brother and decides to be mean.

“How you doing, princess?”

Dean lets out a noise somewhere between a whine and a keen.

“I want words, Dean.”

That gets a despairing sound out of Dean’s throat. Sam continues to rub circles on his thigh.

“Dean?”

“ _Okay.”_  It’s rushed out.

Sam presses a kiss just above Dean’s rim. “Just okay?”

“ _Sir!”_

“What? I’m just checking in. Your position’s looking a little shaky.”

Dean takes a deep breath, and Sam watches as he tries so hard to still his quivering body with little success. Sam brings his hand from his brother’s thigh to his ass, pressing his thumb over Dean’s hole.

“Such a good boy for me, princess.”

Dean takes what must be an uncomfortably big breath at that.

“You’d think I’d never said it before.”

“ _Sir–”_

“I’m just teasing, Dean. Calm down.”

Dean just lets out a sad whine before closing his mouth. Sam kisses under his thumb, causing Dean to whine again. His hands are probably painfully tight around the headboard, and he’s likely flushed. Absolutely and completely flushed from head to chest. Sam takes a sharp breath at the mental picture.

He rubs his thumb along Dean’s rim and starts back up with his mouth. He runs his tongue along the ring of muscle and listens to Dean pant. The shake of Dean’s thighs strengthens and his ass clenches. He dips before righting himself, a cry escaping his lips. It’s not going to be much longer before he starts crying for real, Sam thinks. 

His thumb trails to Dean’s perineum and presses. Dean lets out a wet gasp. Sam then brings it back to his brother’s hole. The tip of his thumb stays right by his tongue where it licks into Dean. 

“Sir, ple–” he cuts off as Sam pushes his thumb in too, just the tiniest bit. “ _Sir!”_

Dean’s voice is rough, and Sam pulls his tongue out to press a kiss to one of his brother’s thighs. “I’ll give you what you need, princess. Just keep making noise for me.”

He’s not going to be taking anything, but Sam doesn’t tell him that. 

Sam presses kisses all the way down and along Dean’s thigh to his knee, enjoying the trembling muscles against his lips. Dean makes dissatisfied whines until Sam brings his mouth back, and then he sighs. Sam nips the bit of cheek closest to him because his brother is so needy. It gets him a groan. 

Dean’s sounds range from happy to strained. Sam continues kissing his brother through it, Dean’s body fighting to stay at an angle. His hips constantly fall lower and lower before jerking back up. His knuckles must be turning white if they haven’t already, and Sam groans at the likely state of the lipgloss. Probably all gone the way Dean licks his lips between certain moans. 

Sam presses his nose against Dean and just breathes into his hole. His brother starts crying, jumbled _“no please please” _and_ “Sir” _repeatedly slipping from his lips and often incomplete.

It’s easy to just stay there and listen to the pleas as they break off to broken little sobs. Sam blows breath, enjoying the way Dean struggles to not rock what absolute little he can because it’d throw him off. It’s a losing battle for sure now, Dean holding himself up by the barest threads of his will. By Sam’s head Dean’s thighs are vibrating, and his ass isn’t above his shoulders anymore. Sam doesn’t call Dean on it; Dean’s trying his hardest, and both of them deserve a reproach free scene with how long it’s been. 

“Think I can get you off before you fall, princess?” 

A choked, sad noise.

“You’ll come either way, Dean.”

Dean’s ass valiantly raises a bit, muscles straining, before leveling back in line with his shoulders. Sam kisses in time with brother’s whines and shifts his hand down to the bed. He pats around for the lube, and when he finds it brings it over to his other hand to open. With that done, he pours some out and works his hand into the ruined panties to wrap around Dean.

There’s little more to it. Sam keeps his hand moving as he gets sloppy with his mouth, a maneuver he always saves for last with Dean. The sobs switch to harsh gasps for breath, and Sam imagines the foundation on Dean’s face running with his tears. It’s with Sam’s tongue trailing against his rim and a hand tightening around him that Dean comes, mouth open slack. Sam’s surprised Dean doesn’t collapse then and there.

He backs out from between his brother’s thighs and sits upright to get a look at Dean’s face. The shine on his lips is definitely gone, his open, panting mouth not catching the light with glitter. His tears didn’t pick up much, and the blush he put on is saturated with his own flush. Looking down at his chest, the bra stands out a bit more against the pinky red of Dean’s heated skin. Sam scoots closer to his brother while he drinks the view in to plant his hands on the waistline of Cas’s panties. He lets his fingers dance over the soft material for a while as he shifts his focus to Dean’s hands. They’re gripping the headboard like Dean’s life depends on it, and Sam smiles at the sight. 

“Such a good boy for me. I know it's uncomfortable, but you’re doing so well.”

Dean’s eyes lock onto Sam’s, and he twists his hands a bit while shaking his head. Sam moves his hands from the panties to Dean’s stomach.

“I don’t care if you’re seconds from not being able to hold, princess. You’re doing, and did, well. I’m the one who decides that, remember.”

A frantic nod and blinking of his eyes to try to clear them up. Sam doesn’t reach out to wipe the tears. He pets at Dean’s belly while he clings to holding his position just that little bit longer. Dean falters, his eyes shutting so he doesn’t have to look at Sam, and his body falls. Sam ignores the pained sounds he makes because of his legs to lean to reach his hands. He pries Dean’s fingers apart and settles his arms at his sides before reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. Dean drinks it slowly, his breathing still labored. Sam keeps the glass level and pulls it away when needed. 

When Dean finishes all the water, Sam just drops the glass onto the bed; it’s plastic and will survive any possible disaster such as falling onto the floor. Then Sam turns his brother over and moves Dean’s legs, rearranging them to ease his knees. As he digs his fingers into the flesh of Dean’s ass to work out what he can of the pain and oncoming soreness, Sam presses a kiss to Dean’s hips, just above Cas’s panties. 

“Good boy, Dean.”

Dean whines happily at that. Then his legs jerk. Sam found a knot.

“Sorry.” 

“’s okay, Sir.” His words are long to get out between pleased sighs as Sam continues working his hands.

Sam gives Dean another kiss. “Lasted longer than I thought you would when you told me you didn’t have good muscles.”

Even not seeing his face because it’s mushed into a pillow, Sam knows Dean’s glowing at that. 

“My good princess. Always impressing me.”

Dean rubs his face against the pillow, and Sam doesn’t know if it’s in response to the praise or to try to wipe away the tears on his cheeks. Either way, Sam just lets Dean keep doing it and continues massaging his ass. As he works, Dean’s sighs taper off, just a few moans when Sam does something especially good. One of his hands search one of Sam’s, and he awkwardly grips on. Sam huffs as Dean’s arm bends with his movements, but he doesn’t make Dean let go. If he wants to hold Sam’s hand, he can. 

Eventually, Dean pulls on Sam’s hand; it’s a weak one, but Sam stops. Dean tugs again. Sam extracts himself from his brother’s grip, ignoring the resulting whine, and lies down before manhandling Dean into his little spoon. A happy sigh from Dean, and Sam kisses his head. He wraps an arm around his brother’s torso to rest his hand on the front of the bra. Dean snakes his hand up, too, wiggling his fingers between Sam’s. 

“Better?”

Dean gently presses his head to Sam’s face. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Go to sleep, Dean.”

“What’re you gonna do with Cas’s panties?”

Sam lets out breath, rustling Dean’s hair. “I’ll tell him they went for a good cause and buy him new ones. Now sleep.”

“Yes, Sir.”


End file.
